Life teaches, Love reveals
by Sarrasi
Summary: How Alexis became the most important person in Mycroft's life he wasn't sure, but as time progressed, he soon discovered that he simply no longer cared.
1. Chapter 1

_I am not entirely sure: what I am thinking, where this can go, why I am writing this but what the hell :)_ _I am sure this will be simply a few short sweet chapters of a girl who may mean a lot to a Holmes. Enjoy x_

_Disclaimer: Of course I don't own anything, the great BBC does... probably x_

1. Shoes

Alexis didn't own very much, Mycroft mused thoughtfully as he peered around the flat curiously. From his stance against the door frame, he saw no clutter, no disorder anywhere. It concerned him somewhat; Alexis should have had more things than this. She suited anarchy, loved knick-knacks and unwanted 'do-dads' which collected dust so why did she not have any?

She had clothes of course, but only enough to fit comfortably into the tiny wardrobe in the bedroom. Only essentials littered the bathroom: one bottle of shampoo and conditioner, shower gel, a razor, toothbrush and toothpaste. Mouthwash occasionally snuck onto the sink if there was an offer on at Morrisons but other than that stayed well clear. There were always free range eggs in the fridge as well as milk, cheap brand-less yoghurts and soft granary bread on the side. Cereal was a luxury item, at the moment was Bran Flakes but there was small box of Shreddies behind it. There was a tiny kettle which sat snugly between the sink and stove. There was a television in the living room with a handful of DVD's to the side, with a plain beige sofa with an inexpensive brown throw draped over the back. There were no pictures on the wall, no expensive frames showing off family memories, no soft rugs interrupting the hard wood flooring. There was a large shelf that took up all of one wall holding more books than was structurally safe, all titles on all subjects, from the Origin of Species to Harry Potter to countless James Patterson novels.

The girl in question walked out of the bathroom. Slim frame covered in a short purple dress she held out two shoes and made a face.

"Which one?" She asked, inspecting both with a frown. "The silver ones go with the necklace but the black ones have easier heels to walk in."

Indulging in the simplicity of the situation, Mycroft considered, gaze flicking from each one. It was no international emergency, in fact, Alexis probably already had a preference but was enquiring in case she had misjudged and wanted confirmation. Mycroft inwardly smiled; she was no politician from far off lands, no power hungry dictator attempting to put two world changing choices before him with tea and cakes, this was simply an outfit partiality. And yet, despite his ability to match umbrellas with four thousand pound suits and cars to his particular brand of watch of the day, Mycroft found himself hesitating.

"Both seem to have attributes you desire, surely there is another pair of shoes that could –" He attempted diplomatically but was interrupted by a soft peck of lips on his own. He tried to slip a hand around her waist but she moved away with a smirk.

"Enough," Alexis commanded. "If you can't pick one then say so, Besides, I don't _have _another pair that goes with this and I am not changing again."

Mycroft chuckled and pointed to the silver. "That one then; you will take them off before eleven o'clock regardless and, if experience has taught me anything, I will take the blame of the state of your ankles with an angry text later tonight anyway."

The young woman paused, considering before brightening. "That settles it then." She retrieved the second shoe from the bedroom and tottered out on them, swivelling around to admire them.

"How do I look?"

Radiant. Picturesque. Exquisite. Glorious. So beautiful it hurt to think that she was his. So perfect with her thin waist, smooth arms and frankly gorgeous behind, shown off in a classy dress that was only fifteen pounds in New Look.

"Bravura." Was all he could muster with a fond smile, wondering if that word, one he doubted she had ever heard before, could even begin to portray his level of devotion which scared even him at times.

Perhaps it was the way he said it, the way his eyes sparkled with affection, the way his head tilted and simply gazed at her. Whatever it was, Alexis beamed, walked up to him and pressed her lips against his own, deepening it when he moaned appreciatively. His hands instinctively wrapped around her waist, feeling her melt at his touch, her arms curling behind his neck. When the broke apart, both breathless and flushed with arousal, Alexis bit her lip and glared up at him.

"Now I _really _don't want to go out."

"Yet we must; I have a dinner date with Lord Everett and his highly kickable Jack Russell and you have a social convention to uphold."

Alexis laughed. "Getting absolutely plastered, annoying Charlie when I call him for a lift home and waking up feeling like someone has poured bleach down my throat? Can't wait." She slid out of his grasp, albeit reluctantly, grabbed her bag and motioned him to follow her out. He did so, watching her lock the extremely uncooperative door, and they made their way down to the street.

It was warm out and the faint breeze ruffled Alexis's fluffy hem and it swirled suggestively up her silky thighs. Mycroft forced himself not to react, not to act like a love struck teenage boy, high on testosterone and hormones and need.

"Evangeline!" Alexis ginned and waved pleasantly at Mycroft's aid, who glanced up from her Blackberry to nod politely back and motion to her right, where a sleek black car sat waiting, purring like a very fat contented cat. Mycroft enjoyed the way his assistant could keep track of all the names she gave to people, enjoyed how each name seem to show a new layer of the person he initially hired; Evangeline was a flowery name, one that seemed to suit her well enough. More than Anthea at any rate.

The three of them slid inside when the door opened, Evangeline settling with her back to driver, eyes fixed firmly on the screen in her hands and Alexis settled into the plush leather with a grin. She reached for Mycroft's hand as soon as the door closed and Charles began driving. How he knew exactly where to go every time continued to intrigue her. Mycroft squeezed her fingers gently, but kept his eyes fixed on the window.

They drove in silence, nothing but the click of rapidly typing thumbs or the tap of indicators as Charles fluidly drove through the traffic.

"Here we are, Miss Ellison. Your associates are by the entrance."

Alexis spotted them and laughed; Marie and Tammy were dressed almost identically and it seemed they were attempting to convince Beth to swap an item of clothing with them, to which the red head was objecting hotly.

"Thanks Charlie," She replied, winking as the chauffer mock glared at her through the rear-view mirror. She turned to Mycroft who could do little but simply stare back, with an expression she couldn't quite identify. Sorrow, lust or annoyance... maybe all three, his mind felt like a turmoil of lust and duty.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" She asked, in that innocent voice that betrayed her own inner battle.

"It will depend on how you handle tonight." Mycroft replied with a sly grin. "I am aware that you barely touched the margarita pizza or the potato wedges due to the spicy aroma from your bin and know that you instead opted for three shots of vodka, the shot glass hurriedly rinsed and dried in the cupboard as clear as day. You have a fake ID in your purse, the one with the nose stud if I remember correctly, which can only end in you either purchasing drinks for your easily inebriated friends or for yourself. You have fifty three pounds in assorted notes and change in your purse which you have been saving for nineteen days so it is safe to assume a large amount of the alcohol will be for yourself. Mister Thomas Ardvill has been inordinately clingy to you this week, as seen from the floury fingerprints on your work clothes, and the resulting arguments have made you annoyed and need to 'dance and laugh' the stress away."

Alexis blinked for a moment, hand falling away from the handle. Mycroft instantly became wary. His deductions continued to alarm people so he refrained from doing so for most of his life, choosing instead to use the knowledge collected clandestinely and without frightening the individual, unlike his brother who seemed to revel in the looks of horror he inflicted.

Then she smiled, her features turning from affronted to astonished, leant over and stared so deeply into Mycroft's eyes, he was sure she was trying to dive into his head. He felt her lips by his neck and breath on his skin.

"Do that again, I dare you."

He raised an eyebrow. "I simply observed," He said simply, repressing the shudder that fingered his spine. "The way your makeup has been applied, subtly but without the usual eyeshadow suggests that you are not looking for attention tonight from the opposite sex, but the sweeping eyelashes indicate you still use your ability to flirt with the staff behind the bar to achieve whatever goals you have this evening. The colour of your dress indicates that you feel comfortable in the shortness of it but the fact that it is not as vibrant as that of your friends tells me that you wish for them to retain the attention for the night from potential interest."

He had much more he could have said, from the way her hair was bundled in unnatural curls around her neck which protected her neck from leering advances to her bag, small and compact, with only enough room for her phone, lip gloss and money – the lack of deodorants indicating that she would most likely sit at the bar or at a table rather than dance.

However, his words were lost as she stroked his cheek, eyes shining with wonder and whispered something so surprising, he actually forgot how his respiratory system functioned for a breath.

"God, how can I find that the biggest turn on in my life?"


	2. Chapter 2

2. Sparks

_She kissed me, and my mouth wrote a poem of welcome to her lips ~ Terri Guillemets_

_If a kiss could say just how i love you... My lips would be on yours forever ~ Anonymous _

oo**O**O**O**oo

Although only twenty, Alexis liked to think she had a rough idea of what a good kiss was. There had been boys in her life – she didn't like to say many, even though some were certainly better forgotten – and most of the experiences she had had were quite pleasant. But it was something she only enjoyed if it was done right.

Mark Waller had been her first kiss. Sure it had been a rather quick and embarrassing, barely two seconds in front of a group of friends who insisted on it to prove that they were actually together. It had been okay; Alexis hadn't hated it at least, but it didn't feel special, just a necessity to stop the pestering associates. They had stayed as 'a couple' for about three months (quite an achievement for two nine year olds) but their different interests forced them drift apart.

The first boy she had _properly _kissed, all tongues and heat and desire, had been Robin Foster at sixteen who incidentally had also been the guy she lost her virginity with. But whilst the kissing was pleasurable, unfortunately, the sex had not been and she had ended quite quickly afterwards. He had tasted of mango or strawberries or apples, and she from that day it had been hard to eat those particular fruits without being slightly turned on.

The first love of her life appeared at eighteen and had been William Flanagan. He was Australian and reminded her of the beach. His hair had been blonde, as yellow as the sand and as golden as the sun. His bright blue eyes were forever bordering on the line of blue and green. The irises of his eye were always battering against the edges of the darker pupil, like the waves of a restless ocean. His skin was sun-kissed tan and his voice sounded the cool breeze of the ocean currents and whenever she had kissed him, he tasted of coconuts. It had ended four days before her twentieth birthday and to this day she was not sure why; it had been sudden and heart-breaking. One minute they were looking at an apartment together, the next he was gone, bags packed, no tears shed and out of her life.

Then there was Mycroft. He was unlike any other person she had kissed before.

In public, their embraces were tender, fleeting and somewhat hesitant. A soft brush of his lips against the back of her hand was the most common way he greeted her. After three weeks, Alexis wanted to be used to it but the gentlemanly way he performed it would never fail to make her blush. He would only hold her hand when they were in one of the many cars that transported him everywhere. He would only hug her openly when the situation allowed – the news of her grandmother's death whilst out shopping in Salvatore Ferragamo for a new watch as the only example she could think of – or after a few days apart.

And yet, when they were alone in her teeny flat or at his penthouse, the kisses were passionate and wild and uncontrollable. One of his hands would secure itself tightly around her hips while the other clutched at her neck, fingers curling in her hair. She would cling to him, her porcelain, tanned arms wrapped around his neck, fingers running over his scalp or jaw line. It was like this kiss was forbidden; they knew it was frowned upon in society, glared at and scorned for such an unusual union. But the moment their lips connected, all of Alexis's troubles were gone, swept away in a gust of bliss, peace, joy, ecstasy, euphoria, enchantment, fervour, and nothing else was important to her. Everything else was insignificant. She was only aware of the feel of his soft, warm lips, the cool touch of his skin, the sometimes the slight press of the ever present umbrella on her left thigh.

When they finally relocated to the bed if they were at Alexis's flat or onto the spacious sofa at Mycroft's, it was as if they were meant for each other. His body meshed perfectly with hers and their lips moved in graceful synchronization, as smooth as a Viennese Waltz. He was wonderful, all she needed and in those moments, he was entirely hers.

_These are basically glances into Mycroft's life if he was in love... __If you have any one word prompts or ideas, let me know :) xxx_


	3. Chapter 3

3. Morning

Light flickered through the deep red curtains, illuminating the crisp sheets and slender figure sprawled on them. Chestnut locks smothered her bare shoulders, legs scissoring the mattress, thin duvet covering only her lower half, bundling slightly by her feet.

Mycroft sat on the edge on the bed as gently as he dared and trailed a finger down the young woman's spine, revelling in the infinite softness of the skin, not stopping when he reached the covers, instead continuing down past the hamstrings and tickled the back of a knee. He smiled when Alexis moaned and shifted somewhat, the sheets sliding down her body completely, revealing a soft bottom and toned thighs.

After a few seconds she curled towards him and rested her head by his lap. She stirred and blinked blearily up at him, taking in the navy suit and the nine hundred pound travel briefcase and curled towards him.

"Where... go... ing?" She slurred sleepily, taking his hand in hers and pressing it too her cheek, huddling into it like a pillow.

"Iceland," Mycroft replied, stroking her hair and grinning fondly when she hummed happily. "Össur and I have some... business to discuss."

He watched as fuzzy memories attempted to claw their way to the surface. He pulled the duvet over her bare shoulders and she stretched, back arching like a cat. "Wass his name... Scar...fis... on? Foreign thingy."

Mycroft chuckled. "Skarphéðinsson the Minister of Foreign Affairs yes, and Johanna in the evening. It will take a few days to sort through the particulars but no longer I promise."

With obvious effort, Alexis sat up, swayed as her body protested but steadied herself by resting her forehead on his shoulder. Missed mascara had smudged around her eyes and her hair was in alarming disarray, defying gravity more effectively than hairspray could have achieved. Consciousness was slow coming but Mycroft had planned as such, waking nine point two minutes earlier for this reason alone; he could say goodbye and have her remember he did so. He placed a finger beneath a chin and tilted her head up, meeting her blissed out gaze.

Ducking his head, he pressed a gentle kiss on her lips.

She tasted of a long night with little sleep but a lot of fun and faintly of the Haute Chocolate ice cream sundae he had ordered her from the restaurant last night. He brushed her bottom lip with his tongue and she opened her mouth reverentially. He swept her mouth with one practised movement and Alexis gasped into his mouth as he pushed her back onto the bed, her hands cupping at the his waist. She shuddered as he nibbled at her neck, placed fleeting salutations on her collarbone. Alexis's head lolled, back arching to meet the too-slow caresses, whimpering when they slowed then stopped completely. He brushed his lips across her cheek, over her ear, leaned against her. So much skin. Skin, and the bone beneath.

He pressed one more kiss against her swollen lips then stood, picking up the forgotten case. Control over the body was basically nonexistent when faced with this goddess but he has managed before and can do it again.

His analytical mind, always so focused and unbendable, was whirling with thoughts that weren't about the tension between two governments, a debt owed or relationship restored. Instead, a thirst was building that he had learned long ago to suppress.

"Whilst you are free to contact me, do not expect a quick reply, communication is kept to a minimal until a solution has been made. Or failing that a compromise."

He skilfully dodged a well aimed pillow as he opened the bedroom door.

He felt her dilating eyes as she glared at his back and she growled angrily at him.

"Fucking tease."


	4. Chapter 4

4. Mask

The music was so loud, Alexis's mind was buzzing. Every beat of the bass rippled up her heels, through her legs and up over her chest. Heart thumping, ears pounding and head thrumming, she dodged her way towards the bar where Tammy was leaning, talking with a young gentleman. Talking was probably not the best word, more like shouting with the occasional fleeting stroke of an arm and battering of eyelashes. Needless to say, the boy had fallen hook, line and sinker.

"Apple Turncoat." Alexis yelled to the barman over the noise. He nodded and fetched a thumb sized glass of amber liquid. It wasn't what she wanted but looked nice enough. She paid, sipped it... and gagged. Bitter, strong and burned like fire down her throat. Shrugging, she downed it.

A man to inebriated to remember his own name tried to grope her as he passed but she stuck out a foot and he went crashing to the ground, swallowed up seconds later by the thick crowd. A woman was sick in a potted plant. Two men made out under the strobe –lit alcove. The dance floor had men and women grinding up each other against skin and other writhing bodies.

She was asked to dance. She said no.

She was asked to leave by a beautiful woman. She said no.

She was asked to dance. She said no.

She was offered a fingering in the alleyway outside. She said no and punched him.

As she leant against the bar and tried to summon the barman again, someone touched her leg. Alexis whirled furiously, ready to slap the twat with perfectly manicured, exceptionally pointy nails.

"Whoa girl, calm down. Just me." Tammy managed to catch the flying palm before it made contact with her face. She had made her way over, the blonde boy trailing after her, looking positively love-struck and... Alexis giggled... very hard. Somehow, despite being two shots too drunk, her best friend looked worried. "You're not having fun are you?"

When Alexis shook her head, Tammy rolled her eyes. "Then go home!" She said gently. As gently as one could whilst shouting at any rate. "It's your day off tomorrow right? Have a bath, sleep and have a marvellously lazy day without a damn hangover." When Alexis didn't move, the brunette grew miffed and gave her a slurred shove. "Go!" She commanded stubbornly.

It seemed so amazingly perfect, Alexis gave her first true smile of the evening.

"Thank you." She whispered to Tammy when she hugged her tightly, not caring if she heard her or not.

"Give my love to the Umbrella man."

Alexis grinned mischievously, watched as she dragged away the boy, took a deep breath and prepared herself for the war that was Leaving the Nightclub.

oo**O**O**O**oo

The night was cold. Her bare arms erupted in goosebumps. Her heels were hurting but it had rained so there was no way she could take them off and walk. She had money for a taxi but the street was deserted. She wasn't drunk but her mind was already fuzzing. Shivering, she pulled out her phone and rang the only contact she had on speed dial.

"Mycroft Holmes."

"It's m...m...me, My...Mycro...ft." Bugger. She hadn't realized she was shivering. "Hello."

"Alexis? What's wrong?" He sounded so concerned, so shocked, so caring, Alexis almost burst into tears. Maybe the last drink she had was more powerful than she had thought.

"No...Nothing, just w...wondering w...here you w...were."

"At your apartment. Why-"

"Oh, that's not too far. I'll be there soon." She hoped her voice didn't sound as slurred as she felt.

Mycroft rarely used his 'Parliament-Ruling/Saving-the-World' Voice but when he did, Alexis felt like both a terrorist and a five year old caught slipping ten pound notes down between the floorboards. "Stay where you are. Do not move. Charles is on his way."

Three minutes later she was safe in a black Mercedes, sinking into the leather seats.

Seven minutes later she was in a tight warm embrace from a relieved lover.

Fifteen minutes later, she was huddled under a thick duvet, clothes off and wrapped in the man she loved.

One hour twelve minutes later she closed her eyes and fell asleep, feeling loved and happy, her head resting on the chest of a very content Mycroft.


	5. Chapter 5

5. Art

It hadn't been long before Alexis realized that she could tell where she was going by the type of car Mycroft had her picked up in.

If it was the Mercedes then it was usually back to the flat or Mycroft's penthouse. Evangeline was rarely there and, since Charles was the most discrete man and impossible to embarrass, Mycroft was much more open with his emotions and affection. There would be a muffled 'How was your day?" before his lips would find hers and they would spend the journey entwined and out of breath.

The silent Rolls Royce would take them to parties or events of what Mycroft believed to be small significance. It would slither through the streets like a ghost but Alexis had be well behaved and gracious as they would most likely pick up a dignitary on their way. Almost instinctively, whenever she saw a Rolls, her back would straighten and chin would lift.

The Maybach Landaulet had been a one off. It had been a very hot, very _rare_ cloudless day and instead of Charles behind the wheel, sat a very smug Mycroft. She had been treated to a six thousand pound dress (initially she refused to touch the damn thing until Mycroft allowed her to keep the receipt and promised that he would never do such an amazing thing again without asking her first) and the most romantic evening of her life at Restaurant Gordon Ramsey. They had walked in Battersea Park afterwards, holding hands for the world to see, lips meeting under looming trees and talking as if they had known each other all their lives.

But her favourite was the Bentley Mulsanne. It was as smooth as silk as it glided around the city, or as more often than not, out of London to Very Wealthy People's Houses. It wasn't that it was the most comfortable because it _was. _Impossibly so, with its smooth wood veneers, blemish-free leather seats and dark seductive mahogany colours. It screamed expense and class.

It was also made Alexis want to crawl into a corner of in-superiority and die.

But she was sure there would be more cars she would have to memorise in the future, after all, it had only been three weeks, not including the two weeks they had met and acted like a couple of embarrassed teenagers and could barely look at each other without blushing.

A black car skimmed the pavement and pulled to a stop next to her. The door opened. Alexis walked to the front and peered at the grill.

A Chrysler.

She couldn't help but laugh.


	6. Chapter 6

_Explicit in nature _

_Be warned :) x_

6. Scream

Alexis has not seen Mycroft in seventeen days. Of course, being the British Government, she knew that there would be times where she would not see her lover for long stretches of time. But this was the longest they had been apart.

Their one month anniversary passed whilst Mycroft was in Iceland and he had quickly called her after, apologising but then proceeded to tell her that he would be away for another week or so sorting through the particulars of a new deal. Alexis had not expected flowers or chocolates but was a text so difficult? Hell, it had been tax season at the office and she still had time to text a 'Happy Birthday' to her sister that day _and _buy a present whilst on her ten minute break.

So when she entered the silent penthouse – Mycroft insisted that she stay at his whilst he was away – she was not surprised. Sorrow pinched at her heart but she ignored it. Her stomach growled but again she pushed it away, in no mood to eat. She poured herself a glass of smoothie and gulped that down instead, pausing by the sink in case her stomach rebelled.

She had no work in her bag which she had to complete, no social obligations to uphold with her friends, no pets to feed (which she wished she had, she really wanted a cat to pet right now) and was in no mood to sleep. Good old television, she thought, take me away.

In end though, Alexis ended up reading 'The Republic' by Plato and falling asleep on Mycroft's exceptionally comfortable sofa, curled into a ball, head lolling on the silky cushions.

...

She was drawn slowly from slumber four hours later by soft kisses being placed on her cheeks. Smiling, she turned and felt a body lowering itself along hers. She had enough sense to shift onto her back and welcome the weight with a moan. Alexis mumbled a barely coherent "What-?" but lips were pressed against hers and all lucid thoughts were quickly brushed aside.

Hands cradled her face and Alexis opened her eyes a fraction. Mycroft's eyes were closed and she began kiss back, opening her mouth and sweeping her tongue against his lips. He smiled into the kiss and when she bit his bottom lip playfully, he groaned approvingly and ran a hand up her thigh, lingering on the stomach before sweeping to stroke her hips, tugging on her trousers. Alexis raised herself from her position, coaxed Mycroft until he was seated and then straddled him, her arms entwined behind his neck and as he purred into her collarbone. She shivered as he ran his hands down her back, biting into her neck and sucking it.

As she moved, she felt how hard he was and shifted purposefully and laughed lightly when he growled. Hands expertly undid her blouse and before she could think, he threw it over his shoulder. The bra followed soon after and she moaned loudly when he began to suckle on her left breast and teased the nipple with his tongue. Her back arched and she became aware that she would have toppled off her perch on his thighs if it hadn't been for a supporting hand on her back, the other sliding up and down her arm.

She fumbled with his tie, pulled it sharply away from his neck and made short work of his shirt as she pressed her swollen lips back against his, throwing all her need and love alongside her sweeping tongue. He made a vaguely embarrassing noise as she did so, and Alexis smiled when she felt his hands lowering themselves to her trousers, undoing the zipper with ease. She struggled with the catch on his expensive suit trousers and she stroked imploringly at his chest when he battered her hands away and undid them himself.

Alexis would look back later and wonder how exactly she got on the floor but at the time, she was busy simply kissing Mycroft as if her life depended on it, not noticing the smooth carpet against her bare back, more preoccupied by the fingers that were making their way south.

God, she was lost and she knew it.

She gasped against his neck as he stoked her clit, teasing her until she felt ready to bite him just to get him moving.

"Mycroft!" Alexis cried out against his skin, her own hand reaching down to stroke him, fingers trailing over his erection.

He pressed his lips back against hers when he entered her, one hand above her shoulder, the other caressing her side. Their kisses became more violent, Alexis could feel herself biting his mouth as he refused to move.

"Please..." She begged, her hips rocking instinctively.

"Look at me." His voice rang with command. "Don't take your eyes off mine."

Alexis doubted she could if she wanted. Dark eyes met light and stayed; as if his were magnets and hers were steel. His breath hissed out between his teeth. Hers darted out of her lungs quickly. His irises darkened further and golden lights seemed to dance around them, taut with passion. He braced himself over her, hands caging her head.

She wrapped her legs around him, locked her heels and pulled him tight against her body, pressing him into her even deeper. He filled her completely but she still wanted more of him.

He began to move in slow powerful strokes, pulling all the way out then thrusting back into her. Each time she felt the broad head push against the mouth of her womb, sending sparks jittering up her skin, opening the flood gates in her mind, ecstasy spilling along her senses. Everything else was gone. Only him. Only him. She felt herself twisting in the darkness, bright colours exploding around her like fireworks. Every nerve was on fire. She was devoured, consumed, her essence pouring into him as his poured into her. Her orgasm screamed, racked her body until it didn't think it could take anymore... then it went on and on.

At least she settled back to Earth, heaving and panting, sure she had splintered into a million pieces. His hot breath felt good against her skin. With infinite care, Mycroft eased himself out of her, leaving an unexpected emptiness and an inaudible cry of protest brushed past her lips. But then he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him, wrapping her in his arms. She burrowed close to his chest, feeling the flex of his muscles as he tightened his hold on her.

"I think someone missed me." She breathed, loving the feel of his responding chuckle through his chest.

"We haven't finished saying 'hello' yet." His voice was practically a rumble and Alexis shivered.

She was silent of a moment, then her hand snaked down between them. She shifted her body and hand reached for his cock that was pressing against her body. Mycroft drew in a sharp breath, his fingernails digging in slightly to her skin as she stroked it.

"I thought you needed rest."

"Yes," Alexis agreed, inwardly grinning at his deductive tone, and allowed her tone to take on a wicked edge. "But you don't do you?"

She felt his heartbeat quicken through his ribcage. She replied by shoving him roughly onto his back, one hand pushing on his chest, the other never leaving his cock. She rose to her knees and let her eyes drift over him. His marble skin. His bare chest. Sweat soaked skin that tasted salty when she licked it. His thighs were thin but powerful and clenched when she ran a finger between thigh and groin. Her hands drifted over his stomach, sending shivers of sensation over his limbs. She kissed every inch of him she could see, staring at the base of neck, sliding down over navel and hovered teasingly by his inguinal ligament. With every touch, his cock twitched.

"Uh-uh," She told him when he tried to reach for her. "It's my turn."

He dropped his hands to his sides and fisted the ground.

"Okay, but you should know that you're killing me."

She simply looked at him, eyes shadowy with taunting desire. She took his hot shaft in one hand, the other pressed firmly on his hip. At the first touch of her tongue to the underside of his shaft, Mycroft's entire body tensed as he tried not to jump.

She slid him a glance. "I promise you won't die."

And then she took him in her mouth.

She would never forget his utter abandon. His expression when he tried to stay still, tried to resist thrusting his hips. He tried to feel her gently restraining hand on his hip but he was as lost as she had been. He lifted his body in time with the hot, wet, tight cocoon of her mouth and she pumped the part her mouth couldn't reach with her hand. Her Mycroft Holmes, ever perfectly poised, ever in control, was unravelling before her.

She slowed then stopped, laughing when he groaned.

Her response was sit up and settle herself on his erection. She sucked in a breath when he bucked more forcefully beneath her. He was suddenly sitting up, his hands were everywhere, sliding up and down her thighs, making her rock and grind against him. She melted into the kiss he locked against her mouth, feeling every murmur of pleasure as he pushed her back on the floor and drove hard into her one last time and shuddered in her arms. She had not yet found her second release but was happy for him to come without her.

Mycroft was not.

Even as Alexis felt his heartbeat slow, he slipped one hand between them, mirroring what she had done, letting his long fingers rub against her clit. He stroked, long and steady. He was still warm and hot inside her and Alexis came easily crying out his name.

...

Another hour, another round later, Alexis woke up tangled in cool sheets. A hot body was pressed against her back, arms wrapped around her waist, hot breath on her neck. She turned and slid her leg between his. Mycroft made a low noise in his throat and pulled her even closer.

Alexis paused, halfway between sleep and awake.

They had yet to say hello.

She smiled and slept.

oo**O**O**O**oo

_Reviews would be welcomed xx_


	7. Chapter 7

7. Vintage

Alexis had grown up loving Disney movies. It had not really been a choice as she had had a very confined childhood, whose only escape had really been the magic inspired by those groundbreaking animated films.

Most of all, she had loved the gowns the Princesses always wore. From Belle's golden ball gown to Aurora's multicoloured (albeit it fairy-godmother induced) dress to most notably Cinderella's ice gown. Not because she had any desire to be a princess herself - her mother had made it clear from the beginning he had allowed her to watch the 'American Bullshit' that she should get no ideas about a prince coming to _her _rescue if she started singing - but because she had never seen such beautiful clothes, even if they were drawn.

Yet, her she was, fifteen years later in a dress that made her feel like she was sitting in front of that thick television screen, staring wistfully at the rolling skirts and glass shoes. Yes, okay, she did not had ridiculously poofed out skirts, or the teeny tiny waist but she definitely did have a dress that she thought belonged in Disney's archives.

It was such a pure blue that it made her eyes stand out like sapphires in grey dust. It enveloped her body in satin wraps, attached by a golden peacock feather over one shoulder. It curved over her hips before cascading down to her feet, just clipped at the front enough to see her toe compressing golden heels. And if the stares of the men in the room were anything to go by, the hem was just right over her breasts.

Mycroft had been commandeered by several more suits upon entering the Fundraiser, leaving her alone surrounded by people all old enough to be her grandparents. Thankfully a kind faced old lady had kept guard over her for about an hour before she too disappeared. Alexis had searched for Evangeline but she had buggered off the second the three of them had entered the manor house and she had no clue where to find her.

"Hello..."

Alexis jumped in alarm and instantly felt her jaw drop as she came face to face with someone her own age. No, he was about twenty five, but definitely gorgeous with light blonde hair, chiselled features but kind eyes.

He held out his hand and she took it with a small smile. "Hi," She replied.

"I'm Colin," He said, flashing white teeth in an almost hypnotic smile. "I do not think I've seen you before."

Blushing, Alexis laughed less nervously than she thought she would. "Well, I never come to these. I'm only here because my... uh, friend begged me to."

"Friend? Amongst these fossils?" Colin cast a pointed look to a group of white haired phantoms who looked as though they were being held down from the ceiling by the change in their pockets. He gave her an appraising glance. "Must be some friend, leaving you alone."

"Oh, um, I don't think he meant to..."

But he was laughing. It was soft and surprisingly understanding. Raising his left hand, adorned in a watch that subtly screamed expense he presented it to her with his palm facing away. To her shock, Alexis saw a simple, beautifully austere gold ring.

"I know the feeling," He replied with a sad smile, his laughter fading. "My other half always disappears after five seconds of arriving at one of these things. I'm just glad I found such entertaining company; usually it's dodging groping hands from some very tactless women... and men."

Dumbfounded, Alexis suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling of affection for him. He knew what it was like! Knew what the stares felt like, what the disapproving glances felt like, _knew_ what it felt like not to give a damn. And he knew she did to and had sought her out.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she cast a sly glance at him. "Which one is your then?" She swept a theatrical arm around the room.

...

Hazel Staffordshire watched as the two easily best looking things at this damn fundraiser began to talk, their postures relaxing as they got to know one another. Only such naturally nice people could gravitate towards each other so quickly and become such good friends as swiftly as they clearly had. And it did look like friendship. She wasn't so above herself to believe that Colin would want to flirt with the girl, after he was human and practically devour-able in his tailored suit and disarming smile. Although the girl had looked flattered to begin with and would smile up at him openly, there was no crackle between them that indicated anything other than companionship, of two souls finding each other and liking what they saw.

"We'll have to get them together more often."

The voice was soft, lilted, controlled and barely an inch from her ear. But Hazel was far too English and had known Mycroft too long to startle easy. She smiled, her eyes still on the talking youngsters who were heading for the thirty foot mahogany table which held all the beverages and silver trays of bite sized food. They drew the gaze of everyone they passed, some not even hiding the wistfulness they felt. Hazel agreed; both looked models, both unnaturally magnificent.

"Although not comfortable, she seems to visibly suit this life." Hazel remarked, watching as she indelicately nibbled on a canapés, grimaced and gave it to Colin who snuck it back onto the pile. "It's strange isn't it, how some seem to be perfect for this setting?" They were giggling haplessly as man walked over and picked it up, and ate it without a second thought.

Mycroft moved to her side, holding a sipped crystal glass of champagne. "She is more radiant at home, laughing on the sofa at the television." He murmured, almost to himself.

"As is Colin when he is playing football with his friends." She agreed. Hazel could imagine it, both youngsters living their little un-world changing lives, like little candles of splendour amongst the grey city of London. Both brightening the lives of everyone who met them but dazzling the ones they had chosen to the point of blinding them. But Hazel never wanted to wear a blindfold.

Mycroft's voice became sombre. "Is what we are doing wrong? Have we stopped two people loving others who could give them what they wanted?" His eyes grew sad, so sad Hazel placed a hand on his wrist in an attempt to comfort him. "She wants children. She has not said it but I have seen her with them and the want is there."

Hazel closed her eyes, remembering the pain. She had been with Colin for five, almost six, years now and had had that particular conversation with him. It had been hard, as he had naturally and almost selfishly believed that children were the next stage but he had bravely resigned himself to the fact that if he wanted to stay with her, they were not a possibility. He adored her, Hazel knew that, but she did not want, no longer believed she _could_ have children and he had accepted it, although she knew it hurt him to be with the children from her ex-husband who were all at least ten years his senior.

It had crossed her mind to end it with him, ignoring her own pain and focusing on his. He would have easily met a girl, someone like Alexis perhaps, fallen in love, had children and been completely happy. But she did not even have to voice that option for Colin had been more than adamant with her that _this, _what they had was more than enough for him. She still wasn't sure.

How would Alexis respond? She was in the prime of her life, ready for offspring as it were, her maternal instincts kicking in now that she had a person she cared for more than herself. Would she respond in kind and stay with Mycroft, or would she leave to live less happily with another man but it would be complete with children.

"Have you spoken to her about it?"

"No, I... fear the answer."

Hazel gave him a hard but sympathetic look. "It will only get harder for her to understand," She warned. "I could not bring myself to voice it for a year and it almost broke Colin." She cast her lover a glance. "It still hurts him and I feel like a monster every time I see him with the mothers we meet on the street and see him try and swallow his jealousy."

Mycroft was gazing at Alexis with such exaltation Hazel felt her own heart skitter momentarily. She could feel his love of her rolling off him in waves and she patted his arm.

"It will wound her," She said gently. "But if she loves as half as much as you do her, she will take it in her stride. She looks strong."

Colin and Alexis were laughing together, comfortable in the others company. Colin said something and Alexis nodded, reluctantly. Soon they were on the floor in front of the musicians and where the other dancing couples were, whirling past them with grace that came not by knowledge but by the simple joy that emitted from them. Alexis was a novice but she stepped lightly onto Colin's shoes when he muttered something in her ear and they were soon swirling around the room.

Hazel did not know how long she and Mycroft watched them. After a while she no longer cared. But times passed and the music began to creep into something much slower and more intimate and both broke apart. Alexis noticed them, and pointed to them, Colin following her finger and smiling when he saw them. They made their way over, flushed, out of breath and utterly striking.

Hazel melted as Colin wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. Mycroft offered Alexis the champagne and she tasted it, made a face, but swallowed another mouthful. The girl cast her eyes to Hazel and she beamed so brightly it almost hurt.

"You must be Hazel," She said, offering her hand which Hazel shook politely. "I shouldn't have been surprised." She added as an afterthought, more to herself than anyone else.

"Of what?" Colin asked, his hand making small lazy circles on Hazel's hip. _Mine, _it said, _all mine. _

"You were bound to be with the most gorgeous woman in the room." Alexis said, a tad embarrassedly but truthfully.

A blush crept onto Hazel's cheeks. Before she could stutter out a reply, the girl had smiled at Mycroft and gestured back to the food court, which was beginning to become surrounded by thirsty dancers.

"I shall return." She winked dramatically. "Time to try more icky food." With a parting grin, she had slipped out of sight.

...

As Alexis walked away, she saw Hazel swipe Mycroft on the arm. Probably telling him off. She had seen that a lot at the parties or meetings she went to with Mycroft; people would comment on how he seemed so distant from her, even when he said he loved her. And he was, often simply smiling at her, casting her long searching glances but rarely touching her, sometimes brushing her arm for her attention but that was all.

But Alexis knew the truth. Mycroft was protecting her from the facade he wore, the indifferent one that he stepped into whenever around his associates. It was what was expected of him and he did for them, but she knew that if he spoke more than a few words to her, he could be vindictive to her and not mean a word of it. She found it oddly enduring, made herself even more presentable and respectable towards the dignitaries that were always at these bloody things, and when she got home allowed him to ravish her in the way only he could, stripping away not only his clothes but the mask as well.

She popped a stuffed mushroom into her mouth and gagged, quickly spitting it into a napkin and hiding it behind the silver platters. She grabbed a potato and onion Frittata and chewed it, sighing in relief as it masked the flavour. Who the _hell _ate that poison? She inwardly groaned... she would have an after taste for weeks!


End file.
